‘And what proof could I offer? You think they would take our word for it? Besides, I’d have a dozen arrows in my back if I made a run for it. Just do what you’ve been paid to do. By tonight the boy will be in de Hayle’s hands, Blackstone might even be captured and if he isn’t then there’ll be a reward for taking his head to the French.’ He picked up the fallen flask and poured its contents into the dirt. ‘You can drink yourself to death when it’s done.’

He threw the empty flask at Santos and went back towards the camp.

*

Blackstone randomly picked men to be in the first group to follow him. He plucked Ariz from Beyard’s command and told him to act as translator in case Santos spoke to anyone on their route and to ensure what they said was accurate. The Navarrese was already suspicious of Blackstone’s intentions but had no choice but to obey. When Blackstone rode out of sight Killbere signalled the remaining captains. Andrés reined in his horse next to Beyard, who spoke Spanish.

‘It will be a hard ride, lord. Will the boy keep up?’ he said, glancing at Lázaro.

‘He’s under my protection and when we are in position, you will stay with him and the horses.’

The boy nodded and heeled the horse.

‘What did he say?’ said Killbere.

‘A hard and fast ride, Sir Gilbert,’ Beyard answered.

Killbere grunted. He glanced at the fearful boy whose life was in their hands. William Ashford and his men were waiting. ‘Keep Lázaro close.’

Will Longdon and Jack Halfpenny’s archers rode behind the lead troops with Beyard’s men protecting their rear. Andrés waited and when Renfred signalled him to go his horse lurched forward.

Halif ben Josef was halfway down the hill on the way to his vineyard. He turned and saw the men spur their horses. His heart beat a little faster. He had ridden with Jean de Grailly and been captured at Cocherel. Then sold and held prisoner until Thomas Blackstone strode into his life and gave him his freedom. He was glad not to be caught up in the fighting and death that would surely come now that Blackstone was using himself and his men as bait. If Ranulph de Hayle was waiting in ambush on the plateau known as El Talo then Blackstone would be caught with a narrow track behind him, a cliff on his right flank and the rising broken ground on his left. The old physician watched a blade of sunlight cut through the low clouds and settle on his rows of vines. It was a good omen. He was happy to be home.

*